I'm currently sitting at home back in Nebraska watching Iron Chef with my sisters while we wait for Thanksgiving dinner. I'm really lucky to even had made it tonight. My life is overly dramatic, and yesterday was no exception. Let's just say holiday travel is a bitch.
I was supposed to fly out on a direct flight from Newark to Omaha at 7:15. So I leave my apartment at around 3:45, hoping to get to Penn Station around 4:15 to take a train to the airport. Unfortunately, I was being an idiot, and I took the wrong subway line, which was farther away from my apartment and Penn Station than the correct line. I get to Penn Station around 4:45, and it's crazy. Lines to get tickets for NJ Transit were ridiculous. I unfortunately choose the wrong line to get in, so I saw the lines by me fly past. I finally get on a train at 5:15 to depart at 5:23. There was a train that departed at 5:12, but I missed it just by a couple minutes. My train was the next to leave, and all of a sudden they announce there was a switch malfunction and the trains were delayed indefinitely. Penn Station shut down for an hour and a half on the busiest travel day of the year. My phone was dying, and my mother wasn't picking up the phone. I needed to reschedule my flight before I left the station so I knew which airport to get to. There's a bunch of coulda shoulda woulda that would have gotten me home on time, but unfortunately that's not how things panned out. I didn't get in contact my mom until my phone was dead (used a kind stranger's phone) after we finally left the station. I could have made it home if I fly out from LaGuardia in Queens, but I was already heading to Newark by that time. The travel agent told my mom that my flight actually was delayed by half an hour so I had a chance to make it on time. I was hoping I would just make it to the check-in desk before the flight departed so they could expedite me through check-in and security.
As soon as the train gets to Newark, everyone who is getting off at the stop jets out of there. There I was, unathletic beyond belief, running with my carry-on, up and down escalators and stairs. I get to the ticketing desk, and the agent lets me skip the line understanding my situation and informs that the plane has left. It was only 7:25 at that point. I couldn't complain about the false hopes the travel agent gave me since I was already on my way to Newark anyway, but I felt so defeated that I couldn't help but break down and cry. The agent working with me tried his best to find me a flight back home, but the best he could do is for me to fly to Houston, overnight there, and fly out to Omaha at 8:45 and arrive at 11:00. The next choice was to arrive in Omaha after 3 in the afternoon. Considering my family usually celebrates Thanksgiving lunch, that was out of the question. I readily accepted the flight to Houston and frantically called all my friends who lived in Houston. My number one was leaving to Mexico that night, another was planning on going to Houston but decided to go the next day. Several of my Houston friends also decided to stay in New York for the break.
I boarded the flight assuming I'd be sleeping in the airport, and as I board, I saw a familiar face. A classmate and friend of mine was on the same flight as me going home to Houston. Fortunately he let me stay at his place, and he sent me off the next morning. (I was such a burden.) Thankfully, I did make it back to Omaha, and I'm about to enjoy Thanksgiving dinner (revised from our usual lunch to accommodate my brother's schedule).
I hope you all have a great Thanksgiving, and please, if you take anything away from this story, leave several hours ahead of your flight the day before Thanksgiving. :D